


the waning moon

by Fatale (femme)



Series: post episode ficlets [7]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: 3x14 spoilers, Coda, M/M, season 3 episode 13
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-12
Updated: 2019-03-12
Packaged: 2019-11-16 07:30:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18090047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/femme/pseuds/Fatale
Summary: There is no puzzle to be solved here, no demons to be slain. Magnus' problem is the absence of a problem. His magic is a candle snuffed out, the smoke filling the empty chambers of his heart where even Alec's love can't touch.





	the waning moon

**Author's Note:**

> https://twitter.com/ShadowhuntersTV/status/1105300822085136384
> 
> ugh, saw the promo for the new ep and can't stop thinking about it

 

  
"I know you're sad," Alec says quietly, stretched on their bed behind him, "you can tell me about it. You don't have to be strong for me."

He's so earnest.

Alec is a fixer; he rights the wrongs of the world, kills demons, makes deals with his silences that he shouldn't, sometimes. And Magnus understands it and has made his peace with it. He has to if he wants to love Alec completely. To love someone is to understand their limitations, their shortcomings, and love them anyway, and Alec is so much more than he is not.

But there is no puzzle to be solved here, no demons to be slain. Magnus' problem is the absence of a problem. His magic is a candle snuffed out, the smoke filling the empty chambers of his heart where even Alec's love can't touch.

He can't explain to Alec that he still wakes up, covered in sweat and reaching for an answering spark of magic that's no longer there. His magic is a leg that's been amputated without anesthesia, a phantom limb that aches and shudders and itches.

Magnus tosses and turns in bed, the moon a silver sliver in the sky, Alec's arm a heavy weight around his middle. It's a waning moon and growing smaller, night after night.

When Alec goes to work and leaves each morning, Magnus putters around the loft, inevitably drawn back to his books, fingers brushing over dusty spines, looking for an answer he's not entirely sure exists. His friends have all abandoned him, sans Catarina, afraid that his magic loss is contagious, afraid of the new High Warlock's wrath.

Earlier today, Magnus found a spell. He skimmed it with shaking hands and a thundering heart. It's dangerous – it's an organ transplant without anti-rejection meds, a tightrope a thousand feet up with no safety net. It might eventually end his life but at least for a while, he'll remember what it feels like to be wholly alive. And he desperately wants to be alive with Alec, to enjoy the life they've made together.

"Everything's going to be okay," Alec breathes against his neck, pressing a tender kiss against the side of his jaw. Magnus loves him so much, it hurts. But this is somewhere even Alec can't follow. "It's just going to take some time."

Time. They never do seem to have enough of it.

"I know," Magnus agrees and closes his eyes, feeling heart-sore and sick to his stomach. He concentrates on breathing, the feeling of Alec's arms around him, trying to borrow a bit of Alec's strength for himself, even without his magic. He has a feeling he's going to need it.

Lorenzo Rey lives in the most expensive area of Brooklyn, of course. Magnus will pay him a visit tomorrow.

 


End file.
